If You Should Happen To Know My Future Plans, Tell Them To Please Call Home

One of the things I've noticed since my mother's death is how unable I seem to be to stick to a plan. I'll feel wildly decisive about something one day, and by three days later (if it takes that long) I'll have completely changed my mind. Within five days, I'm guaranteed to be wildly decisive about a whole other plan, with the same pattern reasserting itself.

Fortunately for me and the universe none of the plans I've been making are the sorts that absolutely have to be acted on right away or else disaster will follow. Well, maybe if I'd acted on my plan to buy a winning lottery ticket, I'd be wealthy right now, but not being wealthy isn't exactly a disaster for myself or the universe. Although both the universe and I would be happier if I were wealthy. I speak for all humanity, except maybe Republicans, when I say that.

Speaking of the universe, it has to take its share of responsibility for my wavering plans. I was absolutely committed to going to the movies tomorrow. Tuesday is old folks day at the movie theater, and it costs us $2.00 less, which for those of us who failed to buy a winning lottery ticket, can be regarded as big bucks. The only problem with going to the movies on a Tuesday is the theater is rife with other old folk, a generation that texts less but talks more. Still, two bucks is two bucks and plans are plans, except when they're predicting snow. Not a lot of snow, mind you, but all of it falling at the exact time I'd be making my way to the movie theater. So I may have to go Wednesday instead, and bill Mother Nature for those extra two dollars.

Among the plans I've been making and unmaking are What To Do About This Blog. I might as well capitalize it, since I've given it enough thought. My plan for quite a while (this predates my mother's death) has been to find something to write about in December, then write the list of books I read in 2013 (more than in 2012, because I've been working a lot less), and then do my annual New Year's Greeting entry with a seemingly casual but much thought out farewell.

There is nothing like starting the new year off with a whimper.

I'm still leaning towards this plan, especially since in early January I'll be joining 3 of my friends at the U.S. National Figure Skating Championships in Boston, and the extent of my figure skating reportage is pretty much, "And then he fell." Which no doubt he, and any number of shes, will do. And after I get back from Boston, I'm not going to have much to say, because unless your career is zippity doing in January, there never is much to say. And my career doesn't look to have many more zippity doing days in store for it.

But I'm thinking that instead of saying hale and farewell come January 1, I'll say hale and hiatus. The blog itself won't go anywhere (thank you Mr. Blogspot for your excellent hosting). And if something worth mentioning happens, I'd be silly not to mention it.

Speaking of mentioning things, have I mentioned that in 2 hours I have a dentist appointment and my dentist is going to drill not one but two of my teeth, one on top and one on bottom, which means two shots of Novocaine?

Oh well. If I survive this afternoon, maybe my future plans will start making sense!